This is my Grandmother's home.
I love this house because I have so many memories here. My Grandmother lived in Mexico and came to America seeking the “American Dream” and this house represents her success in finding it.
My Grandmother is a strong, intelligent, selfless woman and everything she has taught me has made me a better person. She lost her husband at a very young age and never chose to love another man. She bought this home, where she lived alone and I often spent holidays here as a child. I’m writing this post because her home is currently on the market and I never want to forget the times that I spent here.
The Tornado – Age 7
We once hid under this bed while a tornado struck the trees surrounding the house. I remember her trying to keep me calm as she trembled with fear. I held her hand for a while and I remember writing prayers down on a piece of paper...like we were sending “live” messages to God. After the storm, we went outside to observe the damage and it was pretty bad. Trees had been uprooted; there was no power, no water and a substantial amount of roof damage. For days, we would walk down to the lake and load large buckets with water. Blisters covered our hands as we made the journey back to her home and we spent the next couple days eating cantaloupe for dinner. We were happy to have survived the storm.
Stones
Every stone surrounding my Grandmother’s home was hand picked by her, her children and her grandchildren. The stones, for me, represent so much more than a stone. My grandma has always seen the beauty in little things. She wouldn’t just pick up any stone, and this wasn’t just a landscaping project. This was more of a labor of love. I remember the way she would examine each stone with such precision and she could always find beauty in a single flaw. It was as if every stone were a personal achievement and everything about her house, a reflection of her.
Go Carts, Water Park, Art Stores and the Year Round Haunted House
Every time we would come up, my Grandmother would always take us out for ice cream. We would often end up at the go carts, the water park or at the haunted house. My favorite was the haunted house. It was open all year round and exploring that old farm house never got old. The “Tales of the Crypt” character greeted you as you entered and as soon as you turned the corner, there was a chain saw coming through this wooden door. I knew what to expect but every time I went, the chain saw guy would send me running up these stairs covered in ugly green carpet. The rooms on the second floor were somewhat cheesy but it was always so fun and they had an arcade right next door. She often took us to these little shops that sold hand made art. You couldn’t help but find your creative side when entering one of these stores. A peaceful happiness would come over you as the smell of wood filled the air. She was never too crazy about the haunted house, but to her, these stores were definitely a treat. I loved everything about them and how happy it made her.
My Grandmother’s Bed
When I was a child I would always sleep in my Grandmother’s bed with her. My Grandma would always make the bed by turning the sheets inside out (which I never understood) but they were the softest sheets and she would stay up watching the news while I would slowly fall asleep with her dog at my feet. I will never forget my Grandma’s flowery smell and the Jesus in thorns that hung over her bedroom door.
My Last Visit
My last visit to her home was a couple years ago. My husband (who was then my fiancé) and I headed up north to see my Grandma. The very first day we went into town and stopped at this diner that has the most amazing ribs and homemade ice cream. I remember my parents taking me there and how much I loved it, so I had to take the husband. As we were walking inside, they had random pieces of art for sale strewn across the walls. I stumbled across this plaque that read “Men are like fish. They get themselves in trouble when they open their mouth”. I chuckled and headed to the counter to pick up our food. We headed back to my Grandma's with pretty much every dish on the menu. When we got to her home, I laid out every meal that was ordered. My Grandma insisted she wasn’t hungry but proceeded to dive into everything. We all smiled and filled our bellies with delicious goodness.
The next morning my Grandmother made chorizo and eggs for breakfast. We all shared a traditional Mexican breakfast together (my husband’s first) and shortly after my husband left on his motorcycle to explore the trails. He made it half way through the first trail before the Mexican breakfast set in. He stumbled upon a sign that had an arrow pointing into the woods that read “bathroom”. At first I’m sure he thought this sign was some kind of joke but by this time he was desperate and decided to follow the sign. He rode a short ways in when he came to the cleanest porta-john he had ever seen sitting in the middle of nowhere. The way he explains it makes me picture this glorious glowing light surrounding the porta-john almost as if it was a god send and maybe in this case it was. He came back and told us this story and we laughed historically for (what seemed like) hours.
While he was gone, my Grandmother and I bonded like never before. She told me stories about my Grandfather and her life in Mexico. I always wondered about my Grandfather. When I was a child, I remember sneaking into her bottom drawer to look at photos of him. I learned a lot about my family that day. Looking at my Grandmother, I could picture her as a young spanish beauty gazing out the window as she seeked her one true love. This visit had to be the most memorable and rewarding. There was only one other trip that could compare. It was Thanksgiving and it was the only time in my life where my whole family was together under one roof....and we didn’t kill each other.
When we arrived home from our last visit up north, my husband surprised me with that silly plaque that I saw in the restaurant. It was a really nice surprise and great way to remember my last visit.
My Grandmother now lives with my father and I plan to visit her very soon. I will never forget this home, the memories we shared or the amount of love my Grandma put into it.
